


Stolen Moments

by orphan_account



Category: Devilman
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WROTE THIS LIKE  LAST MONTH</p></blockquote>





	Stolen Moments

Ryo Asuka sat on the blood-stained grass, eyes trained on the figure lying motionless below him. Every so often, he would move to take a pulse, but other than that he just sat and waited. And waited. And waited.  
"Please wake up, Akira." he murmured. "Wake up."  
The events of the past few hours played over and over in his mind as he tried to make sense of them- his escape from the hospital, the blinding pain from Sirene's claw, his discovery of Akira's arm and eventually Akira himself. It all seemed a blur, really, and he found it a little funny although he couldn't quite explain why.

As the night progressed, he gradually grew more restless. He started by rolling the loose ends of Akira's bandages between his finger and thumb, then to running his fingers through Akira's hair. This continued for a few minutes before Ryo grew more bold, tracing the scars on Akira's shoulders, his chin, his lips. It was here that his hand paused and a thought formed.  
Another pulse check confirmed that he was just as unconscious as before and Ryo, his heart pounding, slowly moved one of his arms to Akira's other side. Shaking, he took a deep breath before ducking his face down for a kiss.  
Akira's lips were cold, unresponsive, and Ryo couldn't care less. He stayed there, gently pressing into his friend, for as long as he thought he needed to and then some. He pulled back for a second before dipping down again, and again, and again. This wasn't much, but it was the best he was going to get. And, at that moment, he was happy with it.

He felt pretty lucky to be in between kisses when Akira's eyes opened. Ryo jumped back, startled, and all Akira could do was turn his head and stare dumbly at him. Slowly, the light came back into Akira's eyes and he registered that he was indeed alive and whole, that the sun had risen and that Ryo was there with him and looking awfully nervous.  
He gave a slight smile, communicating that he was fine, and Ryo visibly relaxed and leaned in to give him the news about Sirene. Morning had come, the demon was dead, and they were both alive.  
That was plenty enough.

====

Satan stared numbly at the upper half of Akira Fudo, the lower half having been discarded somewhere where no one bothered to look for it. He reached toward the corpse's face, but decided against it and instead pulled his knees to his chest, staring off into the sea.  
He turned his head as if to say something to it, but decided against that too. He soon grew frustrated with himself- why was he so afraid? It wasn't like it could say anything back. He gave a small, desperate laugh at that thought and decided that a kiss would be his prize. If he couldn't have any while Akira was alive, he could at least have one now that he was dead. That would be enough.

He scooted closer to the corpse, every movement slow and deliberate. He placed one hand on either side it and lowered himself down. Somehow, he really didn't want to have anything to do with it now, but he supposed it was all because of the shock. Didn't the humans keep the corpses of their loved ones as well? If they could do this without cringing, then so could he.  
He hesistated for a second before pressing his lips to Akira's, so cold and so unpleasant and all at once he remembered the other time that he had done this, the time in the field. The time when he had walked among humans and when Akira was alive and didn't hate him more than anyone and when he loved Akira just as much as he did now. The time when somehow, things had been better.

He recoiled from the corpse, throwing himself backward and shoving it away from him at the same time. He turned away from it and tried to fill his head with thoughts of his victory, thoughts of his strength, as if thinking about it for long enough would push away that last piece of hope that Akira would someday love him.  
It was never enough.

**Author's Note:**

> WROTE THIS LIKE LAST MONTH


End file.
